Ah, so very long ago!




While I sat singing, steps came on the path,
Outside the window--what marvel is this?
Steady and solemn, they make my heart wrath,
Steps come towards me, and they are not his!
Steps in the night time pass up to my door;
Then comes a knocking might waken the dead:
Instead of one Harry there must be four,
Only not one has his light springy tread.

My old nurse's son to sea ran away--
At a 'Norwester,' or gale from the South,
I've heard the poor woman tremblingly say
The sound 'brought her heart up into her mouth!'

I, little prattler, crouched down at her feet,
Would stop aghast in my innocent play,
Wondering, will she be able to eat,
Supposing her heart in her mouth shall _stay_?

Strange are our minds and their workings, I'm sure
Studying them might drive Solomon wild:
At the loud knocking, I ran to the door
With a sudden thought of that nurse and child.

I saw her rocking herself in her chair,